


The Little Girl and the Wolf

by wolfalice (redseeker)



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-25
Updated: 2007-03-25
Packaged: 2019-01-30 18:36:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12659118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redseeker/pseuds/wolfalice
Summary: The fairy tales are familiar. She's at the monster's mercy, and he's eating her whole.





	The Little Girl and the Wolf

Rend me open, dig your claws right in. Gloved hands turned to talons, the black sigil glows red against blood-stained white, the only light source aside from your burning, burning eyes. Sear into the back of my skull, set me alight, deadlier than sunlight. Bite down.

My ribs crack as you pry them apart, opening a box of wonders, of evils, a violent autopsy mockery. Blood wells up, red on white again, roses amid the carnage. 

You hold my heart in your hands.

I watch you pull it out, still attached by tissue and ribbons of singing pain. My mouth hangs open in a gaping, mute scream, teeth having torn my lips to broken, kissable shreds.

You smile. Is this what you wanted all along?

_“Do you want to come with me?”_

I answered you blindly, not knowing, not knowing… Blind, a blind child, the little girl and the monster, Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. Was I always the prey, and this, this little hunk of flesh, the prize? It doesn’t even beat, what’s the use in that?

Put it in a bag and take it home, show it to your master. Well done, hunter. Well done, slave. You led me into the dark, twisting woods where the branches caught and the creatures watched, but you were more lethal than any of those eyes, the fiends in the dark. You  _are_  the dark. The shadows, the man with the knife, the killer, the beast. Your teeth drip blood and meat, that bone pale skin of yours slicked over with red. Lick it up, then. Taste me, drink me, swallow.

Your kiss tastes like death, horror and heaven swilled together, your tongue like a snake in my raw throat. Gore runs over my cheeks and chin, and you tease at my torn lips with the very tips of your teeth, pain tripping like a poem. This rise and fall. I can’t help but respond.

You’re holding it so gently, holding it like a jewel. You shouldn’t bother, it’s only meat. I’m already dead, so what can you do to harm me more? You killed me once already, remember? Can I die twice? Can I?

It quivers, as though issuing a dare. It’s just a trick of the light, or a last spasm of pain. My fingers clench and claw, what’s left of my broken body arching as you bend your head to lick at my lacerated throat. I’m under the same old spell. Crush my heart if you like. Just curl those gloved, red fingers a little bit more and squeeze. It’s fragile, like the rest of me - soft, and defenseless in your hand.

Squeeze it to pulp, bite me again, tear the flesh, drink, devour me. Rend me open, dig your claws right in.

 

***

 

Invading my senses, my everything, you creep inside. I’m nearly whole again now. This un-dead thing comes in handy. Preserve the heart and the head - the centre, the essence - and you can do what you like to the rest. Shred it, bite it, eat it, fuck it... my body’s your little toy, deformed but not quite disposable. I’m a free meal, kept chilled. I’m a pretty diversion, a way to kill some time. I’m a slack eyed whore, the ‘bride’ who will never leave you. She’ll never leave you because she’s lame and bound, and so, so tame. One touch of my cheek and I’m keening like a dog. You walk away, and I’m crawling after, these pointed shoes scraping on the stone floor of your tomb, dear count.

A mannequin, a doll, a pet. But here’s the thing, my dear: whether I'm a crippled dog or the weak kitten they named me, I have teeth.

I’ve tasted your blood,  _master_ , and I have acquired a taste.

 

***

 

Dare you look at me like that now? How’s my bite? Is my heart still whole?

This child's had a lot of time to grow, and like a plant in the dark, I've grown up twisted.

I growl as you stalk closer, making sure you notice when I bare these weapons, these teeth you gave me. They’re pale as ivory, and more precious. Rare like jewels, natural as rocks, the jagged kind that catch your skull as you fall. Not that  _you_  fall.

I think it’s time I put them to good use.

 


End file.
